Hate from a Distance

I know what hate is. I’ve felt it. I doubt there’s a human alive who hasn’t had firsthand experience with the emotion. But for me, hate has to come with pretty good, in-your-face, grounds. What about you? For some reason, I’ve never been able to hate someone unless I’ve experienced a personal assault from them. And even then, I’m not sure I’d define my reaction as “hate”—I think it’s more like anger.

Is it a good thing to refrain from hate? I think so. Why does it seem so unique these days? I’ve never hated a politician, a used-car salesman, or a con man who conned me. Weird. I also haven’t experienced really nasty things happening to me. I’ve never been raped, nor has anyone I love. I’ve never been truly screwed over by anyone. No one has attacked me or conspired against me. I’m not sure if anyone out there has ever hated me so I could hate them in return.

I do think I’m capable of really horrific hate if any of these things actually happened to me directly. I hope they never do, but if they did, then hate would spew forth, I’m sure. Therefore, I can certainly empathize with people who harbour intense hate for another if someone assaulted them, or those they loved, in these ways.

But I think it’s imperative that the attack must be direct and beyond anything typical. I could understand it under these circumstances, but I still wouldn’t really condone it. That said, I simply cannot understand hate from a distance. For example (the example): What is this hate we see for Donald Trump?

I don’t mean to bring up Trump so often, but you have to admit, he is the giant elephant in the room and always a great subject for comment. He is a perfect example of what this article is about—hate. I don’t have to tell you he is the number one object of hate in the world today. Sure, there are others, but Trump gets the gold medal. This fact is the main reason I can’t even dislike him. Sure, I think he is often an ass, rude, ugly, even horrible at times. I think some of the things he has done are appalling, but I gotta say, the US and other powerful countries have done similar horrific things in the world before Trump, and probably always will. I can’t even dislike him for a bunch of reasons, but one of them definitely is because everyone hates him so much for, in my opinion, not very good reasons. Like I just said, it is “hate from a distance.” I don’t think Trump has broken into anyone’s house and set on fire anyone’s wife or children (well, if so, those people can hate him).

And, in the opinion of many, he has also done some good things. In fact, only time will tell how good, but so far, pretty good. For instance: He strengthened border security, leading to massive arrests and deportations of illegal immigrants and a significant reduction in illegal crossings (no matter what you think of his methods, having millions of illegal immigrants in any country is a burden). He implemented policies restricting transgender participation in women’s sports, and ended federal funding for gender-affirming procedures (like chopping off the genitals of minors). He brokered historic peace agreements in the Middle East, such as the Abraham Accords, normalizing relations between Israel and several Arab nations. He promoted economic growth through tax cuts and deregulation, resulting in record-low unemployment and job creation before external disruptions.

Maybe these are not great accomplishments in your book, but I think some of these good things should temper the bad things a bit—at least when it comes to this extreme hate. And sure, there is reason still to dislike him. But the hate being projected onto him is pretty daunting. People have even made up a psychological condition for it—Trump Derangement Syndrome. Derangement seems to be an appropriate word.

So why is this so weird to me? I see my friends and family having a nice day, drinking tea or coffee out on the sundeck, eating scones, the sun is shining, Alexa in the corner playing a nice Spotify playlist. Thinking of a pleasant dinner later, maybe a relaxing game of pickleball with the neighbours after lunch. Casual talk about what the kids are up to, or what movies are playing at the local Cineplex. Nothing, really, to complain about. Suddenly, someone spits. “Oh, how I hate that Trump!! Can you believe what that asshole has done now??!!! Can you believe that?! Who does he think he is?! Oh, I hate him! I hate, hate, hate him!!” Have another scone.

It reminds me of days of old when people watched soap operas, or really any repeating TV series, and some character was designed to be hated. And everyone hated them. They hated them (or her) for things they did on the tele, not in their own home, but they still hated them. Hate, hate, hate. Hate from a distance.

Most of the horrible stuff happening in the world does not affect us directly in the least—sure, one day they may (or definitely will). But right now not so much. The horrors of Gaza, of Kiev, Sudan, and Myanmar—have no impact on our pickleball game. Just recently I had someone telling me how Trump has no business messing around in the world the way he is. “That whole Venezuelan thing,” they exclaim. “How dare he mess with that country! And just for oil!” It isn’t like they didn’t have a point, but of course, none of the nuance is included with the exclamation—there is no mention of the oppression the citizens of Venezuela have suffered. Under Nicolás Maduro’s regime, Venezuelans have endured widespread political persecution, including arbitrary arrests, enforced disappearances, torture, and extrajudicial killings. The government has stifled dissent through censorship, harassment of journalists and human rights defenders, and rigged elections, leading to a humanitarian crisis with mass displacement and acute food insecurity. And there certainly is no mention of how this is all global business as usual. Yeah, it would be nice if we lived in a nicer world. But we don’t, and never have.

No doubt we do need to be aware of the revulsions going on in the world, even as we eat our scones and play pickleball. And we can become obsessed with it if we feel we need to—and choose to be an activist. But if we are not devoting our life, or part of it, to engaging with the world at a distance, we definitely have no reason to hate anyone, even the ones responsible for the horrors, if they are not directly affecting our lives—and I mean directly. Hate is a survival emotion; it is designed to conjure up fearless energy to literally fight a threat. Yes, someone like Trump, or ICE, or Putin, or even Carney could be threats, but there is no purpose in hating them.

What bugs me most about all this is the insistence from these haters that, to stay on good terms with them, I must join in their hate. I have to match their ugliness, hate with the same venom they do. I’m not allowed to simply “dislike” someone, or “disagree,” and indifference is out of the question. No—I have to hate. And God forbid I actually support the person they despise. If I do that, then in their eyes, I’m no longer even fit to be considered human.